


We Don't Have to Dance

by DaughterOfAthena



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: But it's agreed, M/M, but i mean, good fluffy end, it could be counted as noncon?, sort of angsty beginning, theyre both drunk basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 06:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8612923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaughterOfAthena/pseuds/DaughterOfAthena
Summary: Hadiden and Dorian have been broken up for almost three years, but neither have quite moved on. Inspired by the song "We Don't Have to Dance" by Andy Black.





	1. Fresh Regrets, Vodka Sweats

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I got the idea for this, but here it is. It's a little rough, but you know, it was an idea.

Hadiden grimaced as his drink went down. It stung his throat, bitter, and he hated it. But he needed it. He needed to drown out life, memories, everything that was happening, or at least happened. 

Two years ago- no, it was two years and five months since he walked out on the man he thought he loved. The man thought he loved him, charmed by his foreign nature, his flirting, and, gods, his smile. They... Gods they had a good run. The flirting, the dates, the movie nights, the sex. Everything felt so great, and then it came to a crashing stop. 

Hadiden's parents had found out, found out about the relationship. Three years down the drain, all because he didn't want to disappoint his parents. Yet, it was a week later that Hadiden had told his parents that he was gay. They didn't call him again, which Hadiden was okay with, but he didn't call Dorian back. He didn't tell the other man that he was sorry, didn't ask for him to take him back. He left the ending as it was, completely heart broken, and, some nights, found his sorrows at the end bottom of a bottle. Tonight's bottle happened to be vodka. The sharp sting reminded Hadiden of the tears after the phone call.

"Hadiden, honey, is something wrong?"

"No, Mom. Wait, yes."

"What is it? Are you hurt?"

"No. I'm letting you know I won't be coming home for the holidays."

"Why?!"

"You and Dad don't want a gay son. I can't change that. So I won't be home."

"Hadiden-"

Silence.

Another swig of the drink had Hadiden coughing, hating everything. He'd be drunk before he knew it, walking back to his apartment just to drink a little more before sleeping at three in the morning. He'd be up at seven, head pounding, but out the door for work. He'd go the rest of the week without a drink only to find himself in a bar, usually the one owned by Varric, his favorite underground author, and drinking away. 

When the man looked up, about to go to the bar again for another drink, a group of men caught the man's eyes. There were a couple men leaning over one man, moving too close and pushing too many boundaries that Hadiden knew too well. The victim was stuttering, either drunk or nervous, or both. Hadiden knew the man, oh he knew him all right, and whatever war was going on in his head didn't stop him from getting up.

Long strides allowed Hadiden to reach the table. The men all looked at the shorter man, eyebrows raising. Hadiden smirked, as if he owned the table and said, "beat it boys." The victim seemed relived to see Hadiden, though when Hadiden looked at him, the man didn't look to recognizing him.

The blonde man grabbed the victim's hand and lead him out to the dance floor, in which the other man went willingly. The men around the table all grumbled, yet were ignored. Hadiden lead the taller man to the center of the floor, away from prying eyes and the group of brutes. Gods what was he doing?

The victim's eyes were glossy, too much alcohol. Hadiden knew what those grey eyes looked like when he had too much to drink. Dorian was rightfully drunk, probably more so than Hadiden. The shorter man was pulled closer by Dorian, who was swaying his hips seductively to the bass of the song. Gods, did he know what he was doing?

"You shouldn't be here alone," Hadiden said, not giving a damn anymore and leaning close to Dorian, speaking right in his ear so the other man could hear.

"I wouldn't be here alone if I had it my way. Or, I wouldn't be leaving alone," Dorian retorted. Hadiden held back a groan. 

"It'd be a mistake to leave with me," Hadiden said, biting his lip when one of Dorian's hands was resting on his butt. 

Dorian laughed, rich and warm. He was drunk. "I'm good at making mistakes lately," he said, words slightly slurred. He hated hearing him so drunk.

"I am too," Hadiden mumbled, letting the music guide him and Dorian. Gods, how he missed having the feel of Dorian against him, holding him close. He missed the feel of hips grinding against hips, mouths pressed to ears, hot pants of breaths making the world fade. So good, too good, too much. Dorian didn't even know who he was anymore, or did and didn't care. 

"You know," Dorian started, "we can leave any time." 

Hadiden didn't want it to end, wanted to dance until morning and the hangover set in. He wanted to wait until Dorian remembered what was happening and could leave like he should. He wouldn't Dorian to shove him away, tell him he hated him, but Gods, he wanted him. 

_Lets make one more mistake. Neither of us will remember, he'll leave by the morning, and we'll never speak again._

Hadiden pulled Dorian closer, humming. "My place isn't far."

Dorian moved away, slightly, not far enough to say he didn't want to leave, just far enough to hold Hadiden by the waist. The shorter man smirked and followed suit, letting Dorian lean against him more or less. When the doors opened, the chilly autumn night air hitting their faces, Hadiden almost backed down. But then again, he told himself they were drunk, neither of them would remember, and Dorian wanted him. 

His apartment wasn't far, just down the street. When they got there, Hadiden was surprised Dorian didn't remember it. Two years wasn't a long time, but he couldn't have forgotten where he lived for awhile. It was the apartment Hadiden had before moving in with Dorian, and when Dorian wanted, they lived there. But when they broke up, they had been at Dorian's house. Everything of Hadiden's that was there was left. Dorian's stuff was still in Hadiden's house. Neither moved on properly. Photos were taken down, gifts hidden, but the stuff was there. Even when Dorian got through the door, the taller man still didn't remember. 

The motions were engraved, like a dance or song neither one could remember. When they were through the door, the door closed, Hadiden's back was pressed against it. Dorian's mouth all over his skillfully even though he was sloppy drunk. Hadiden's hands found leverage, seeking out hair. The silky strands were smooth, yankable, and the groan from Dorian let Hadiden know it was still welcome. The man loved his hair, and loved his hair pulled even more. 

A knee was shoved between Hadiden's legs, causing the smaller man to part them. There was no lie that there was a bulge in either of the men's pants. Hadiden hadn't had sex in three months. Hadiden didn't know how long it had been for Dorian, but for a moment, the thought of another man taking him made Hadiden angry. 

A tangled mess of limbs rushed to the bedroom. It was Hadiden guiding them to the room, seeing how Dorian didn't remember the path, or did but didn't want to lead. 

Clothes were ditched on the way to the room, their pants still left. When the two were in the bedroom, the kissing and grabbing had stopped so that pants could come off. Hadiden missed this, not wanting to admit it to himself. His lips were against Dorian's neck and was pushing the other man onto the bed. Gods his skin was hotter than usual. Hadiden crawled onto Dorian and straddled his hips. It had been too long.

 

Their bodies moved together, like mother had changed. Dorian was pressed up inside Hadiden, making the smaller man arch his back, throwing his head back. So good, too good. He hadn't found his full pleasure yet, but Dorian knew what he was doing. Those years together had an imprint on him it seemed.

A few times Hadiden wanted to stop, to slow it down. The man had seen bruises that shouldn't have been on Dorian's body. Purple, yellow, green bruises that weren't made during sex. Prints and scars that shouldn't be on Dorian's body was there, and oh did that make Hadiden want to hurt someone. He wanted to leave a giant hickie on Dorian's neck, so that when he woke, he knew someone took care of him. But he didn't, didn't want to get Dorian in trouble. Didn't want Dorian hurt.

The roll of their hips, the friction that was created continued to push Hadiden to his edge. He didn't want it to end, didn't want Dorian to finish, but kept going. He wanted Dorian to finish before him. But that didn't happen.

Dorian chased Hadiden's release for him, making him scream out when his climax hit. Though, while he was sore and raw, he continued to let Dorian seek his own pleasure.

When Dorian found his climax, Hadiden moved off the other. Dorian was blissed out, obviously tired from the alcohol and the sex. As sore and tired as Hadiden was, he still got out of bed to get a wet and dry cloth to clean them both off. Hadiden didn't feel dirty, just didn't want to wake up in a mess. He also didn't want Dorian to wake up messy. 

Both of them were cleaned off, but Dorian was asleep first. Hadiden climbed into bed, ignoring the fact they were both still naked. He had made sure to cover Dorian with a heavy blanket, not wanting the other to wake up cold. But, Hadiden's back was to the other, covered in his own blanket. He silently hoped for Dorian to be gone in the morning, not wanting to deal with any one night stand dramas in the morning.

When sleep claimed him, Hadiden could only hope to sleep longer than Dorian.


	2. You're Never Going to Get It, I'm a Hazard to Myself

The morning light was what woke Hadiden up. He was blinded for a moment, dizzy and confused before realizing it was actually morning. The next surprise was that someone was still in bed with him.

Hadiden withheld a groan when he realized Dorian was still in his bed. The blonde man rolled out of bed, carefully, then quietly got dressed. By dressed, it meant that Hadiden put on a pair plaid boxers and an oversized green shirt. He left the bedroom, closing the door quietly for Dorian to have his privacy. 

The blonde man went into the kitchen, putting a kettle of water on the stove. As much as he wanted coffee, he rather wanted tea. He had been trying a new thing about getting off coffee by drinking tea. Hadiden felt healthier, to say the least, but some days he splurged and had a coffee. Usually in the summer.

While he waited for his tea, Hadiden sat on his couch and stared at a black tv screen. So much had changed. Had he grown up? Or just fell into old patterns? The water was screaming, which made Hadiden run for it so it wouldn't wake the sleeping man. With his tea cup, Hadiden went back to the couch to think.

Two years, nearly three, and what had changed? Hadiden had finished his degree, had a job at aquarium, and was doing all right. He had been in a crash a year ago, which he was still getting over, still angry at the other driver, but learning to accept it. A glance at his left hand had a sharp pain in his stomach, but it faded. He was alive.

The silence let Hadiden think, letting him remember this life before he walked out. Hadiden remembered being a junior in college, waking up with Dorian in bed. He'd wake before Dorian, crawling out of bed to make pancakes before the other woke. The smell of chocolate chip pancakes would fill the apartment. Dorian would wake up, coming up behind Hadiden and holding him. Sometimes the taller man would play music from his phone, both of them swaying to the beat as breakfast was made. On late study nights, when either Hadiden was trying to read through his text book, or Dorian practicing for his business math courses. If Hadiden was studying, Dorian would get a blanket and hold onto the smaller man while both read a book. If Dorian was studying, Hadiden would run his fingers through his hair, humming a tune to relax the other man. Date nights would be movies indoors, lots of blankets, and popcorn fights. When Dorian picked a movie, it usually ended with soft sex. If Hadiden picked, the two would be making jokes about it or talking about the action scenes. Fights usually ended with them both apologizing, long hugs, and late night cuddling and long talks. It was all okay until Hadiden had jumped the gun and left.

_"We... I have to leave."_

_"What? What do you mean?"_

_"I mean, we can't be together!"_

_Silence fell between them. Hadiden wouldn't embarrass his family, but he wouldn't let Dorian feel like it was his fault._

_"Dorian, I just... I'm sorry."_

_"Don't you think I deserve an explanation?"_

_"Goodbye, Dorian."_

Hadiden felt the pinpricks of tears. He walked out on the best years of his life because of his damn parents. He was drinking his sorrows because he knew he messed up. Everything was his fault, and Dorian was in a bad relationship because of him. 

" _I've gone mad. I've woken up in my ex-boyfriend's apartment, naked, and alone._ Honestly, I thought it was a dream, but the pounding headache tells me that this is real."

Hadiden looked up, putting his cup of tea on the coffee table. The water was cold. He hadn't taken a single drink. Dorian was up, standing behind the couch. He was wearing one of Hadiden's oversized tee shirts and his boxers. Though, the tee shirt fit Dorian better than it fit Hadiden. Their builds were so different. But the look of anger on Dorian's face let Hadiden know that his doubts should have been heeded last night.

"Dorian, please-"

"Oh, now you want to give me an explanation?" Dorian spat. Hadiden felt his stomach drop. 

It took a minute for Hadiden to find his voice. "I've made a mistake, and I take all the responsibility for it. I crossed blurred lines while we were both drunk. You acted as though you didn't know me, which I thought was okay. I thought you'd leave in the morning, making all of this go away. I don't know what made me jump, maybe it was all the guys around you trying to get a piece of you, but I just... I needed to stop finding the sorrows at the bottom of a fucking vodka bottle and to make it right." 

Hadiden paused, tears breaking past. "This isn't right, not in the least. We took advantage of each other while we were drunk. But, I owe you an explanation from last time." Hadiden stood, crossing his arms across his chest, folding in on himself. He felt small, like a child.

"I felt, walked out on us because... my parents called. They... They got word that I was with a man and... I don't know, I just didn't want to disappoint them, even if that meant I wasn't happy. So I left. I..." Hadiden began to cry. He didn't know why, should have known better. This wouldn't win Dorian back. "I stood outside your door for... For an hour. I wanted to go back, wanted to say I was sorry, but couldn't. A week later, I called them and let them know I wasn't changing who I was to make them happy. But... I couldn't call you. I hurt you, just walked out, and I wasn't going to beg you to take me back. I didn't deserve it and I don't deserve it now."

Hadiden was quiet before looking at those grey eyes. He missed him. "I don't want you to take me back; I don't deserve it. You deserve better than me, but you don't deserve who ever is beating you. A man should be treating you like a king, Dorian."

The other man was looking down, silent. "I've been trying to get out. Never had a reason to leave. Maybe it's just been me telling myself it's what I deserve. I thought I messed up what we had, so I just... I didn't try." 

More silence fell before Dorian asked, "your arm. What happened?"

Hadiden glanced at his left hand, holding it out a moment. The device was a project by a friend, one who was trying to fund for new amputee devices that bring back a bit of normal into life. It was like a real hand, just made of metal. 

"I... One too many drinks, I got into my car, and as I was going, making turn, another driver hit me. His car hit right on the driver's door and... I lost my arm. The medics said I was lucky, that I didn't suffer more, but I didn't walk away complete. I'm okay though." Hadiden bit his lip. Nervous.

"My apologies," Dorian said. A silence fell between them once more.

But it was Dorian who broke it again. "I can't promise anything, not for awhile. But if it's possible, we can try to start over. I just... If you would have told me, it might have ended differently."

Hadiden nodded, looking down. "I can accept that. I don't think I deserve a second chance, but hell, I won't waste it if you're offering it."

The blonde man only looked up as Dorian walked up to him, a small smiling playing his lips. Dorian placed a soft, gentle kiss on Hadiden's before saying, "I'll leave my number on your table in the bedroom. Let's start over."

It hurt, watching Dorian walk out that door. Hadiden hoped to see him again, see him in nothing, see him in everything, see him smiling. He had tried for three years almost to get over him. One night stands didn't work, neither did drinking. But they were going to start over. 

Stupid memories resurfacing after three years. He kept them quiet for so long.


	3. We Don't Have to Talk

Hadiden was sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He smiled to himself as a face appeared above his. 

"Long day?" Hadiden asked, smiling as the other man's lips met his for a fraction of a second. 

"You have no idea. But, I must admit, the business has never been better. I don't think my father could have seen it as successful as it is now. I'm kind of glad I was given the family business," Dorian said, loosening his tie. Hadiden giggled as the other man moved over the back of the couch, hovering over the man already laying down. Hadiden reached and kissed his cheek. 

"Does that mean you'll get a vacation soon? I don't think you've had a week off in quite awhile." Hadiden tsked, smiling as Dorian hummed.

"I think I deserve one. As soon as I get a vacation, what do you think we should do with it?" Dorian mused, laughing as Hadiden ran his fingers through his hair. Hadiden was just smiling. 

"Movie night. We binge watch all of the Lord of the Ring movies or Harry Potter. That way, you don't have to be tired after the movies," Hadiden said. They were both giant nerds for fantasy movies.

"I have a better idea," Dorian mused. Hadiden raised an eyebrow.

"Like what?" The blonde asked.

Dorian pecked the man on the lips, sitting up, sitting flat on Hadiden's lap. Dorian placed his hands on Hadiden's chest. For a moment, Hadiden thought it was going to go turn into a very interesting night. 

But instead, Dorian smiled and said, "well, I think we go out, you actually dressing in something other than a tee shirt and jeans, and we go and shop for rings." 

Hadiden looked confused. What did they need rings for? And why did he need to dress up? 

"Why do we need rings?"

"Well how else would you suggest we get engagement rings?" Dorian asked, smiling wider as Hadiden's eyes widened. 

Hadiden's cheeks heated up. This... What? Engagement? But that...?

"Dorian, are you asking for me... For us..?" Hadiden stammered.

"Hadiden, we've been together for four years now, and this has been the best four years of my life. As cliché as it seems, I would like to be able to call you my husband." Dorian was smiling, but he was nervous. Hadiden couldn't blame him since he did leave a long time ago. But Gods be damned if Hadiden let go of the man now.

"Gods, Dorian. Yes! Can we go get them tomorrow?" Hadiden sat up, ignoring the laughing Dorian. He was going to marry Dorian Pavus! 

"Let me at least get a vacation. We can spend that whole week just shopping for the perfect rings. What do you think?" Dorian asked, his heart on the line again.

Hadiden leaned up and kissed the other man. "I love the idea, Dorian."


End file.
